Turning Tides
by Angel St. Mathew
Summary: Perhaps Arnold is just having a bad day. Or maybe he's just had enough...
1. Chapter 1

Turning Tides  
  
Chapter 1: Hump Day  
  
"Hey, Arnold...Hey, Arnold...Hey, Arnold..." The alarm clock chimed at 7:00am and Arnold knew it was time to get up. He shuffled out of bed, preparing to get dressed, when he noticed that his homework papers from last night had been blown all over the room from the open window. "Oh, no..." He hurried to pick them all up and get them back in the right order, remembering that the papers were a compilation of two 500 word essays he'd been working on that had to be turned in today. He quickly got them in the right order and put them in his backpack, along with his books. Then he threw on some clothes and opened the door to go downstairs. But he failed to see Abner sleeping on the step right in front of his door, and he tripped over him! The animal squealed horrendously and both pet and boy tumbled down the stairs and landed at the bottom with a large thud. Arnold sucked in a deep breath, grabbing his ankle. Then he muttered something as he pulled back his pant leg. That's gonna start swelling, he thought. Abner had already run off squealing, and Arnold heard the distinctive sound of his grandma's running footsteps. When he saw her burst through the door of her and grandpa's room, he wasn't surprised to see her dressed in a WWII officers uniform, fully armed and ready for battle. "The Germans are attacking!! Quick now, to the bomb shelter!" And she sped off down the hall and out of sight. Arnold sighed and carefully got back to his feet. He was almost glad grandma hadn't seen that he'd hurt himself, she probably would have gone into her Civil War Surgeon mode again and try to amputate his leg or something! Arnold proceeded down the hall carefully, easing his right foot with each step. Hopefully his grandpa wouldn't notice either, or any of the boarders.  
  
"Hey, Arnold. When do I get your help painting our room? It's been two weeks and still no paint on the walls". The voice of Mr. Kokoshka broke into Arnold's thoughts and he turned around to see the man with his head sticking out the doorway of his room. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kokoshka. I know I promised to help you paint your room, I've just had a lot of schoolwork because school's almost over for the summer". "But I don't want to have to wait until summer to paint my room-" "I know, I know. I'll help you sometime this week, I promise". "How about today?" "I don't know, I'll see". "Just make sure you get time this week, ok?" Shouted the boarder as Arnold continued down the hall, ignoring the pain in his ankle as he tried to walk normally. He nearly fell down the other stairs on his way to the kitchen and dropped his backpack, which came open somehow, spilling most of its contents. Arnold grumbled under his breath as he hurried to gather all his papers and supplies back into his bag, then went to the kitchen. The table had milk and soggy cereal spilled at every seat, a pile of dishes in the sink, and a filthy un-swept floor and dirty counters. When Arnold looked in the cereal cabinet and pulled out the only box left, it had three pieces of cereal in it, and nothing more. Oh well, I can just have toast, he thought, pulling out a loaf of bread and sticking a few slices in the toaster. While he waited he cleaned the kitchen a little, wiping the table and counters at least, and he was about to reach for the broom when there was a great crash outside. He looked out the window and saw that his grandpa had backed up into the garbage cans with the car. Arnold groaned, he knew what was coming. "Arnold, can you get those??" Came his grandpa's voice, and Arnold waved to him in response, saying he'd get it before he left. He watched his grandpa drive away waving his thanks. Arnold went outside and scooped up the trash back into the can. "What the-!!" When he heard someone shout angrily from inside, he looked up at the window and saw smoke! "My toast!" He exclaimed, running back into the house. The kitchen was full of smoke and a bunch of the boarders were waving the smoke out and yelling at each other, trying to figure out whose fault it was. Arnold tried to say something, but no one heard him. "It's my fault, I left it in the toaster on accident!" He yelled. He'd forgotten that the toaster no longer popped on its own, it had to be looked after until the toast was done. "Arnold, you know the toaster doesn't work". Said Mr. Green, who had the toaster tipped over and was dumping the burnt slits of bread onto a paper plate. Suddenly the clock chimed 7:30am. "My bus!" Arnold grabbed one of the burnt pieces of toast and ran out the door and down the street, putting most of his strength into his one unhurt leg. He could see the bus at the corner, closing its door and starting to leave. "No! Wait!!" He yelled, running after it, but no one heard him. "Hey, stop the bus!!" When he stepped down into his right leg there was a sharp pain and he collapsed on the sidewalk. He knew there was no way he was going to be able to stop the bus now. He checked his ankle and saw that it had indeed swelled a lot, almost more than he'd expected. Arnold scowled for a moment, and then slammed his fist down on the pavement in anger. Once he'd gotten back to his feet he was able to hail a cab and get to school just in time, but with no lunch money. The high school building was a large, towering brick building. The front lawn was littered with people heading to class when Arnold got there, so he knew he wasn't late. He paid the cabby and checked his watch, just in time. The bell rang and he limped to class, biting down on his tongue to hold back the pain in his ankle and trying to keep a straight face. He took a seat at his desk and sighed deeply. He'd dropped his charred breakfast while chasing the bus and now he could feel his stomach growling. Gerald sat down in the desk across the isle from Arnold and noticed the distressed look on his friend's face. "Hey, man. Havin' a rough day?" "Yeah". "Awh, cheer up, Arnold. Hey, I hear their serving tapioca in the cafeteria today". Arnold moaned inwardly, that just made his hunger seem even worse, no way was he going to be able to wait till lunch now. But he couldn't tell his friend that. After all, Gerald was just trying to cheer him up. So he cast his buddy an anticipating smile instead.  
  
The rest of the morning didn't go very well, though. He was a freshman in high school now, which made him all the more thankful that the school year was almost through. Being his first year in high school, he was looking forward to the three month brake. But when he turned in his essay for his history class, the teacher flunked him because there was a paper missing. Arnold tried to explain about the window and asked permission to bring the other paper tomorrow, but the teacher simply could not be reasoned with. Arnold couldn't believe what was happening; he'd worked on that essay for two weeks! And the teacher flunked him for one missing paper! He landed heavily into the chair at his desk, fighting a scowl. This is so unfair, he thought. But he eventually let it pass, it was just one F, he didn't usually get bad grades and he knew his grandpa wouldn't mind once he'd explain what happened. But deep down inside, Arnold was still slightly peeved. And to make matters worse, there was a surprise pop quiz in his algebra class, and Arnold had a hard time concentrating because of his ankle. He fretted over the F he just got and was so nervous about flunking the pop quiz that he was almost certain he would. "Time". Said the teacher, but Arnold looked at his watch and saw that they still had five minutes left. The teacher started collecting the papers, and when he finally noticed that Arnold had raised his hand, he asked what it was. "Um, I think we still have five minutes left". Arnold said simply. "Are you assuming that I don't know how long a one-hour essay should take? It has been a full hour and your time is up. If your paper isn't completed it is not my problem". And he continued to collect papers. Arnold could feel an anger smoldering inside, why did teachers have to be so indignant. He leaned foreword with his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands. He didn't like to think these rebellious thoughts, it wasn't right, and it made him feel terrible. But he just couldn't help it. This just isn't my day, he thought with defeat. But maybe it isn't really their day either, he thought in regards to the teachers who'd successfully contributed to his already rotten day.  
  
Arnold walked beside Gerald to his locker, trying to hide the limp but not succeeding in the best way. "Hey, Arnold, somethin' wrong with your leg?" "Yeah, I fell down the stairs this morning". Gerald cringed. "Ouch, man. You tell your grandparents or something?" When Arnold shook his head, Gerald gave him a look of confusion. "Why not?" "It's not a big deal, it doesn't hurt or anything," he lied, "I'll be fine". "Whatever you say". It was then that they reached their lockers and were surprised to find something they hadn't expected. Someone had used spray paint to write obscenities all over a couple people's lockers, including Arnolds. He gave a loud grown. "Man, oh man, oh man. Somebody stooped pretty low this time". Said Gerald. People around the hall and anyone who saw laughed or snickered and pointed, and a slightly dark, angered look flashed across Arnold's features. Who in the world would be so rotten, he thought, looking around to see if he could spot someone he knew, or someone who looked guilty. His first accusation was for Helga, who'd always picked on him, but he knew better. Sure, she was a jerk, but she never used language and would never stoop this low. Arnold opened his locker door and put his books inside. "Let's get going". 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: An Accident  
  
"Man, Arnold. You're just not havin' much luck today, are ya". Gerald said as the two of them grabbed their lunch trays and got in line. "I guess not". Arnold said casually. His stomach growled again, and he grinned. All morning he'd waited to get his hands on some tapioca, he hoped Gerald had heard right about it being served that day. He hastily made his choices of other foods and hurried along to the desserts. When he got there, though, there wasn't a single cup of tapioca to be seen. There was, however, a large empty area among the other desserts where Arnold figured the tapioca must have been. When Gerald caught up with him and saw that the tapioca was gone, he groaned. "Oh well". Arnold said, doing well at keeping his cool, as usual, as he chose a different dessert and headed to the end of the line to pay for his food. The lady behind the cash register sat with a bored look upon her face, blowing a bubble out her mouth with a piece of bubble gum she'd probably been chewing all morning. Arnold set his tray down and dug into his pocket, only to find it completely empty save one penny! "Oh, no..." He muttered, remembering what he'd done with his lunch money. "What's wrong?" Gerald asked behind him. "I forgot my lunch money, Gerald". Arnold said, ignoring the fact that it was sort of a lie, and Gerald dug into his own pocket. "Here, I got extra". He said, handing the money to Arnold, who thanked him and paid for his food. He took his tray and headed for an empty table. Gerald sat with him and they talked a while as they ate their lunch. The rest of the cafeteria buzzed loudly with other high school students talking, laughing, yelling; it was a lot noisier than the lunch room back at PS-118. Suddenly someone bumped into Arnold and sent their soda on his face and down into his t-shirt! Arnold jumped out of his seat and was not surprised to find Helga standing there, regaining control of her tray. "Oops, sorry football-head". She said sarcastically and continued on her way. Arnold gritted his teeth and sat back down. He didn't want to go clean up or he'd never get a chance to eat his lunch, which he owed Gerald money for. He could feel the drops of soda running down his neck and back, and he scowled as he ate his lunch in silence. Gerald said no thing, only looked over at him every once in a while. Poor Arnold, he thought. Every day it gets harder for the kid to hold onto his temper. Ever since they started high school Gerald had noticed a slight change in Arnold's behavior. It slowly became harder for him to just let things pass, or to look on the bright side like he used to do so well. Oh sure, he was still a kind, positive, pacifistic kid, but there were some days, like this one, where his anger just ate him up inside. Though Arnold didn't know it, his best friend could see right through his act.  
  
Meanwhile at another table, Helga sat down hard onto the seat and put her head in her hands for a moment. Why did you do that, stupid, she thought, mentally kicking herself. You could have at least apologized to him. Why must you constantly torment him with each passing moment that you're in his presence? It may be the last time that you are, can't you just be nice? "He probably won't even notice when I'm gone". She muttered with defeat as she picked at her food with a fork. I miss phoebe. Phoebe had gone to a special school up state, and would be home in a couple weeks. Though Helga didn't show it, she was so excited that she couldn't wait to see her best friend again. The only thing she dreaded was telling her the news. And Arnold. Was she going to be able to tell Arnold? Or did she even need to. Would he even care? Helga sighed and continued to pick at her food.  
  
After school a bunch of people gathered at Gerald field to play baseball, their favorite pastime. Arnold didn't really want to come with his ankle in so much pain, but Gerald convinced him to come anyway and he sat on the bench watching with a few other people. The game was tied with two outs for Gerald's team, and Helga was pitching. "Hey, football-head, you wussin' out or what!?" She shouted, and Arnold scowled. "I don't feel like playing today". He stated simply, and she spit in the dirt. "Right, you're just wussin' out as usual". "I am not". "Hey, lay off, Helga". Gerald said, and Helga glared at him. "Stay outta this, tall-hair boy". Gerald shrugged and said no more. "Hey, I don't care if Arnoldo decides to be a wimp, not my problem, we got this game in the bag anyway". And with that she prepared to pitch for Eugene, who was up next to bat. This meant that they were most likely going to loose. Even as a freshman in high school, Eugene could never manage to get ride of his curse for being a jinx. "Fine!" Arnold shouted angrily, limping off of the makeshift bleachers and grabbing a bat. "Can I bat in your place, Eugene? And you can bat after me". Eugene nodded, understanding completely. "Sure, Arnold. You can bat in my place anytime". Eugene stepped back and took a seat on the bench with the other players on Gerald's team. Arnold, ignoring the pain in his ankle, stepped up to the base and made ready to hit Helga's fast ball. "You don't have to do this, ya know". Gerald said. "I know". Arnold replied. "Well, well, well, look who came out to play". Helga taunted, winding her arm back and letting the ball fly. Arnold swung the bat, but the ball whizzed past and Gerald caught it. Arnold sucked in a deep breath, he should have been more careful with the way he twisted his leg around trying to swing. Helga noticed the pained expression on his face, but it only lasted a moment before a look of angered determination replaced it and he made ready to bat again. So she ignored the look of pain and prepared to pitch again. This time, when Arnold swung the bat there was a soft crack. The ball didn't go very far. Arnold dropped the bat and fell, grabbing his ankle. "Hey, you alright, man?" Gerald asked, and Arnold shook his head. Gerald came to his side and helped him up. "What happened?" He asked. "Nothing, I just need to sit". Arnold said painfully, and while a bunch of kids chased after the ball, the rest ran their bases and cheered for their victory. "Well, well, looks like ya came through, football-head". "Yeah, Helga, whatever you say". "Hey, what's wrong with your leg?" When Arnold didn't answer, Gerald did it for him. "He twisted it or something, no thanks to you". Though a concerned look crossed Helga's face for a moment, it didn't stay long before she snapped back at him. "Me? Why is it my fault?!" "You're the one who made me play!" Arnold exclaimed angrily, waving Gerald away when he attempted to look at Arnold's ankle. He didn't want anyone to see. "I didn't make you do anything, Arnoldo! You chose to play!" "Only because you wouldn't have left me alone if I hadn't!" "You don't know that, what do you know, football-head!? You're probably not even hurt, it's just an excuse to be lazy and wuss out again". Before he knew what he was doing, Arnold had leapt up onto one foot and punched Helga in the jaw!! Time froze, Arnold stood poised with his fist drawn back to his chest, a look of complete shock etched on his face. What had he just done?Gerald sat dumbstruck on the bench, had Arnold actually just punched her? Not hit, but punched!! And standing in front of them was Helga, a look on her face that couldn't be described. She couldn't even react to what he'd just done to her. All her life, she'd never actually hit him physically, only with words. Never had she dreamed that he'd actually retaliate, and in this way. It was as if everyone in the park had frozen as well, and they'd all seen what just happened. Helga opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Her heart had just shattered into a million pieces. "..I....uh, I..." Arnold stuttered a moment, but he saw a shining in Helga's eyes, as if they were filling with water. Or tears. "I...I'm sorry". As he said it, he reached out his hand instinctively, but she backed away. "Don't touch me". She said in a low, almost raspy voice as she put a hand to her cheek as if to protect herself, and he pulled back. Helga turned and ran, and no one said a word, not even Harold, who stood almost in awe. "Man, Arnold". Was all Gerald could say after a moment and Arnold looked at him. Then he looked around the field at all the teenagers there that he knew, who were now looking at him, surprised. So he ran. Not very well, but he made it out of the park and down the street. He heard Gerald call behind him to wait, but he didn't. He just kept going. Surprisingly enough, Gerald did not follow him. 


	3. Turning Tides3

Chapter 3: Going Away  
  
The next day Arnold was absent from school. He'd fallen down the stairs again because if his previous injury and broke his leg, and his grandpa had taken him to the doctor. Arnold was not to go back to school for the rest of the year, which was only a week and a half. The doctor said he was to remain off of his feet for at least three weeks, and then possibly after that he would be able to move around a little bit each day until he could walk again. Gerald brought Arnolds school work to him each day, and the teacher actually brought Arnold his end of school exams and stayed in the room while he did them. Naturally he passed, but it didn't make him feel any better. And it had nothing to do with his leg. Gerald told him that Helga had not been in school either for about three days, then she came back. Her cheek and eye had swollen a lot, but it wasn't that bad anymore by the time she came back to school. Gerald said he suspected that she only came back because she'd heard Arnold wasn't going to be there for the rest of the year. They both knew Helga had ways of getting out of school, and she could have easily used what Arnold did as an excuse and get her homework brought to her by Sheena or somebody. This conversation got Gerald talking about Phoebe and how she'd be home in a couple days. He was obviously very excited about her finally coming home, so Arnold said nothing, only agreed and smiled. Before Gerald left, Arnold told him to tell Helga that he really was sorry, but when Gerald came over the next day, he said he never got a chance to. She had managed to avoid conversation with him the whole day, and for many days after that. When Arnold was left alone in his room with only his thoughts, he sometimes asked himself why he felt so bad anyway. She was always asking for it, she had to know it was coming some day, right? And those rotten things she said! Why, she deserved it!! No, that's not true. You were just having a bad day and decided to take your frustrations out on her. What's happening to me, he thought to himself with dismay. I never used to act out on my anger like this, I could always take this kind of stuff so well. Sure I don't always trip over Abner and fall down the stairs, but it wasn't that big of a deal, was it? You had no right to hit her, he told himself, no right at all.  
  
It was a week after school ended that the doctor said Arnold could get up and move around a bit, and gave him a nice, sturdy pair of crutches. Arnold loved being able to finally get out of bed and do some things on his own. After a couple days of moving around the house, he asked his grandpa if he could go for a walk. "Not quite yet, short man. Doctor said you should stay in the house for at least a week or two first. But I guess you can go out on the front step, can't deprive a kid of fresh air, that's what I always say!" Said his grandpa, and Arnold smiled. "Thanks, grandpa". Though it dampened his plans, Arnold was glad he could at least go out and sit on the front step. He knew if his leg didn't heal soon he would start having withdrawals from not being able to go on the roof of the boarding house, where he sometimes loved to be most. Arnold planted himself on the front step and set his crutches down next to him. "Arnold!" He knew that voice, and when he turned, his face split with a smile. "Phoebe!!" She came running over to the steps and embraced him lightly, then sat next to him. "When did you get back?" "About a week ago or so. I was just on my way over to see you. I would have come sooner, but I've been very busy...settling and stuff". At fifteen and having been out in the world a little more, Phoebe was not quite as shy and quiet as she used to be. "How was school?" Arnold asked, and they talked for a while on the subject of school, friends...etc. At certain points during the conversation, Arnold noticed a hint of hesitation in her voice before she said something, or perhaps her mind was elsewhere. "So, have you seen anyone else lately?" He asked, and she nodded. "Oh yes, Gerald called me a couple hours after I got back. My mother said he'd called at least three times that day asking if I was there yet, can you believe him?" "Oh, I believe it. He's really been looking foreword to having you back". "As I have looked foreword to being back", she said, then she sighed happily, "Oh Arnold, it's so nice to be back home. I'm so at peace here, I almost wish I didn't have to go back to school at the end of the summer". "I know...We'll miss you". "Yes, well, let's not focus on that just yet, I'd like to not think about it until absolutely necessary!" Arnold smiled at that. "So what else have you been up to since you got back?" "Well...um, not a whole lot. A couple of us when out to a movie the other night. We would have asked you to come, but we didn't want to make you feel bad because we knew you wouldn't be able to with your leg and all. By the way, I'm sorry about that. Does it still hurt?" "Nah, it stopped hurting a while ago". "Oh, that's good. How much longer before you can get the cast off?" "Doctor said a couple weeks at least". "Oh, that's a shame. A couple of us were going to go swimming this weekend. I guess I didn't think you'd come anyway". "Darn, that sounds so tempting. I'm dying to go swimming! Who all's going?" "Well, me, Gerald, Sid, Sheena, Lila, I think perhaps Harold, and possibly Rhonda and Nadine". "What about Helga?" Arnold couldn't help but ask. Phoebe looked at him strangely, as if he'd just made a cruel joke. "You know Helga left already". But by the completely clueless expression on Arnolds face, Phoebe fell short. "Don't you?" "What do you mean? Left where?" "Oh my, I thought sure Gerald would have told you by now". Phoebe said, almost sadly. "Told me what?" "Helga left a couple days ago for Maryland, she's going to live with her grandparents for the rest of the summer while her parents are having their house renovated". "Oh," Arnold said, sounding kind of sad. "When will she be back?" "Well, if the house is done before autumn, then she may come back for a little while...but Helga will be staying there the rest of the year". "Staying?" "Yes, she's going to attend the boarding school her sister went to". When Phoebe said this, it was obvious that she was extremely sad about not being able to spend hardly any time with Helga before she went back to school. She looked near tears. Arnold tried to put his own disappointment aside as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Phoebe". Phoebe shook her head. "It's alright, it's not your fault...she'll be back eventually...just like me, right?" Phoebe's voice quivered slightly near the end of the statement, she was holding back how hurt she really was by this. Arnold knew it had been hard for them when Phoebe left at the beginning of the school year, he could see the effects it had on Helga for months afterward, practically for the rest of the school year! Then something occurred to him. Perhaps Helga wanted to leave...to get away from him. "I should probably go". Phoebe said then, standing. "My parents didn't want me to be gone for too long". Arnold could tell it was an excuse, but didn't mind. "Will you be alright?" He asked. "Of course I'll be alright, you know me". She said with a smile, one that actually helped Arnold to believe her. Then she left. Arnold sat alone on the front step, watching the few cars go by and listening to the sounds of the city. Things were sure going to be different without Helga around, a lot different. He would not have to put up with her spit wads or her teasing or her threats or her scowling face or anything like that. I bet it will be pretty nice, he thought. But then he thought back to the expression on her face when he'd hit her. It was unlike any look she'd ever given him; he didn't dare try to interpret it. Only that it would forever remain etched in his mind, like he'd not only struck her physically, but emotionally as well. He had no idea why, but that was it. Perhaps he'd really hurt her feelings a lot. And he would never, ever forgive himself. Not ever.  
  
Well, what did you think?? Let me know, this is my first HA fanfic (that I've posted;-). Look for a possible part two...... 


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